Okay
by bahari
Summary: Mello has always had a temper and Matt has always been there; but now, with Kira gone and life readjusting to his absence, they're both going to have to find a way to finally just live, without fear and without running. AU MelloxMatt


Rating: T, for language and just really really depressing crap.

* * *

Mello's hands clench and unclench as he stares at the screen. He releases a shaky breath that does not go unnoticed by Matt but otherwise doesn't move.

Mello knows this feeling; knows the feeling of almost just barely nearly snapping in half. Knows the feel of fibers straining, pieces of him bending at impossible angles, parts becoming bent out of shape just to stop the inevitable.

It's one of _those_ days, just like he'd known it would be when he woke up at 6 this morning. He had known, the moment he'd opened his eyes that it was going to be a long, hard day. It had been his first thought when he'd woken, and the second had been, _I want to go back to sleep._

Yes, he had known, but what is he supposed to do about it? He can't just stay in bed every time he feels like this. He can't let emotion drown him like this.

But it's mid-afternoon and things are not looking good. 'Things' being his sanity and Matt's well-being. Mello wants to open his mouth, wants to say something, tell Matt that he isn't okay, tell him to get out of here, or to_ help him_, but there is nothing. Only emotions, never words. That's the way it always is with him.

Matt's noticed of course. He always knows, and Mello damns him for it. It would almost be easier if Matt couldn't understand, or if he wasn't there at all. But he _is _there, and he _can _understand. He can because he's been there, because he's had days like this. Mello has never really seen them, because they were almost all exclusively after Mello had left him years ago. Every so often, Matt has his days now. He gets quiet and his hands shake and he acts nervous, which is strange because nothing really scares Matt anymore. Not after losing L. Not after losing Mello, almost for good. Not after almost dying himself, and certainly not after Kira.

When Matt feels like that, though, it _can't _be that bad, Mello thinks, because he is able to be the bigger person about it (as usual). Mello sticks around and stays awake and tortures everyone around him who refuses to leave him (Matt, basically; it's always Matt). Matt, on the other hand, leaves. He'll stay for as long as he can; then, when it's too much, he'll leave and get outrageously drunk and come home so wasted that he barely even knows his own name. This, Mello thinks, is normal. Right? When you hate yourself so much you just want to throw up or carve out a chunk or your skin just so there's less of you that you have to loathe, then it's really the time to get drunk or get high, right?

But not Mello. Mello stays.

And right now, he can feel every part of himself straining and cracking and he knows: he is not going to last any longer.

"Nothing," he says, surprising himself with the timbre of his voice. His tone trembles with not rage, but fear. "I've got nothing."

There is a beat of silence and then, "That isn't true." Matt has likely been waiting for him to speak, and knows that he isn't talking about the case they're working on (with Near, which could be some of the problem, but they couldn't think of what else to do when he'd asked so nicely for their help and bribed them with chocolate and computer games).

Mello blinks. Not a good sign. He's trying to stay frozen, as still as possible, trying to stave off his inevitable explosion. He blinks and his hands twitch. "Yes, it is." No tone at all in his voice now.

"No, and it never will be," Matt tells him. "You've always got me, no matter what."

And suddenly, the hideous anger and hatred redirects itself at Matt and Mello _knows _that it's only so he won't have to think about how very much he despises himself and Mello _knows _that it breaks Matt when he does this, but what if he doesn't want to be the only one that's broken around here? What if he wants Matt to hurt just as much as he does? What if he doesn't want to be the only one who feels like he's lost something of himself somewhere in the Kira case; what if he doesn't want to be the only murderer in the room?

"Shut up," he says, and the understated words are more dangerous than perhaps even Matt can understand.

Matt gets up and puts his hands on either side of Mello's face so Mello has to look at him. He kisses Mello's forehead and rubs one thumb at the faint circles of grey underneath Mello's sleepless eyes.

"I love you," Matt says softly. "It's okay, Mel."

Mello shoves him away with enough force that he hits the small of his back on the desk and bites his lip. "It's not okay," Mello says, his voice pitched low and barely loud enough to be heard. "It's never _okay_, Matt, I just pretend."

"I know." Matt does know, because half the time, he does the same.

Still, Mello snaps, "You don't know."

Matt comes near him again (and damn him, why does he _do_ this? He knows how angry Mello gets, he knows it's dangerous, but he won't leave Mello alone, not after that first time.)

"No, you don't fucking _know_, Matt!" Mello bites out. "You don't fucking know, how could you _know_ ?"

Matt reaches out to touch him again and Mello cannot _stand _it, he feels too ugly, too scarred, too scared to be touched and he lashes out because he's tired of Matt pretending that Mello isn't going to kill him one day, like Mello has killed so many many other people.

Matt staggers back a step but otherwise doesn't react to being backhanded. Mello wishes that he'd stop being a man for one second and reach his hand up to cover the brilliant red mark that stains his pale, freckled cheek. There's no blood though. Not yet.

Matt doesn't try to approach him again. "Mello, it's okay," he says softly. His tone is that of someone approaching a wild animal. He even has his hands stretched out, palms up, in an open and comforting gesture.

Mello stands, and Matt stops moving. "It's not," Mello bites out. "Don't tell me it is." Low, dangerous; he is dangerous now.

"Okay," Matt says, dropping his hands.

Mello shakes his head in disgust. "Get out," he tells him, the small, still-sane part of him praying that just this once, Matt will listen and the rest of him pleading for Matt to stay because Mello hates being alone.

"Mello, you know I can't do that."

Mello steps close to him and shoves him in the direction of the door. "Out!" he snaps.

"No." Matt's simple words are infuriating and Mello is breaking. He cannot stand this, he will not, he can't hurt Matt again, not after so many times, not after going so long not doing it, not after everything they've both already had to give up just to give an ungrateful world back its agency and free-will.

Mello, with great effort, turns away, but that proves to be the breaking point, the last of his will, because suddenly he's turned around and he's lashing out again and he watches like it's someone else hurting Matt because why would he do that, why would he hurt Matt when Matt is the only he has in this horrible, lonely world?

Mello comes back to himself suddenly, suddenly, when he finds himself down on the ground, pinned, with his face shoved into the itchy carpet and his arms twisted behind his back and pulled high enough that he can feel bone and muscle straining to accommodate the new position.

"Fuck . . ." he groans.

"Fuck is right," Matt tells him, and Mello stiffens as he hears Matt's tone. Anger. Matt is angry. He never gets angry; Matt had once told him about the few memories he had about his parents, most specifically about his father, and why Matt is always in such careful control of his emotions and why Matt never hits anyone.

"Get off," Mello snarls, but the words give way to a whimper when Matt presses down harder with the elbow that is in the small of Mello's back. Now all Mello can think is _damn, he's strong_ because Mello is struggling, fighting as if his life depends on it, and Matt is barely panting. When the hell does he work out? He goes running every morning, but that shouldn't do anything about his upper body strength. Mello vaguely remembers push-ups, but Matt does all this when he's usually still asleep, so now Mello has no way of really knowing.

"Are you listening yet?" Matt asks, his voice calm even as his body tenses further.

"Get the fuck off of me and get out, Matt!"

Matt's hands begin twisting, rotating Mello's wrists and Mello lets out a little pained noise. Matt stops, but doesn't let his hands return to the original position.

"_Are you listening?"_ Matt demands.

"Fuck, Matt, yes, I'm fucking listening!"

"Good, because there are a few things I think you need to hear," Matt tells him.

"What?" Mello asks sullenly.

"Firstly," Matt begins, "firstly, I bet you think you're the only one who lost something in the Kira case, don't you?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "I'll bet you feel like because you were second and you lost L, because you ran away and joined the fucking Mafia, because you blew off half your face and killed half a dozen people, you _lost something_, don't you?" He does pause this time but before Mello can answer, he grabs Mello's hair and slams his head into the carpet.

Because the floor isn't wood or cement, it doesn't hurt that bad, but the action alone leaves Mello dazed and a little amazed. When did Matt learn how to handle people like this?

"You aren't the only one who lost something, Mello!" Matt tells him, his voice catching in something that sounds like grief. "I loved L too, I miss Whammy too, and I lost _you_. And when I finally got you back again, you . . . you were like this, and I didn't know—I don't know—how to fix you." Matt pauses to catch his breath and Mello tries to speak but Matt twists his hair.

"Don't say anything," Matt warns him. "Just let me finish." Mello closes his mouth because what Matt says next chills him and he doesn't know if there _are _any words.

"You probably think you're the only murderer in the room," is what Matt says. "But you're wrong, Mel. Everyone knows you killed Kira, yeah, sure, but nobody knows about all the people I had to take care of in between. I never even told _you_, you would just ask me to get something done or to get you some codes, never realizing that some secrets are more important to people than their fucking _lives_. You never realized that nearly every time you told me you needed me to steal some information, there were always people waiting, and there were always people who _died_. And _I _killed them. I didn't just order it done somehow. I'd go down to their flat or their warehouse or their office with a gun and if they wouldn't cooperate, _I would shoot them._"

Their apartment is very, unnaturally, quiet. Mello stares with wide eyes at nothing as Matt pants, trying to catch his breath above him. Suddenly, Matt releases him and stands up. Mello doesn't move except to let his arms fall onto the carpet. When Matt speaks next, his back is to Mello and his voice is too muted to tell what he's thinking. Mello needs an expression, the tone just isn't enough.

"Look," he says, "I don't know what you're thinking on days like this, but I'm telling you that it's going to end. You can still have these days where you hate yourself so bad you want to just die, but I'm not going to let that happen and I'm not going to let you hurt me. Not physically. You can't keep doing this, Mel. I can't keep letting you. It's killing me, and I won't die. Not after everything I've done—everything we've done to stay alive."

"Matt . . ." Mello says, bewilderedly. "Matt, I . . ." He doesn't finish, because he doesn't know what to say.

Matt sighs, and turns around and kneels down next to Mello. He picks him up effortlessly and places him so that Mello's back is to Matt's front and Matt wraps his arms around him. "I'm sorry," Matt says, pressing his lips to Mello's neck. "It's okay, Mel, I'm sorry."

"I didn't know," Mello says.

"I know. I thought it would be better," Matt tells him. "I thought you not knowing would be better, but it's not. We're even, Mel. Do you get that? Nobody's better, nobody's more innocent, nobody's lost more. We're the same, and I love you, but you've gotta let me."

Mello turns around. He needs an expression, he can't keep going off Matt's words alone. Matt's face is a blank, total poker face, and when Mello thinks that, Lady Gaga pops into his head, and he laughs desperately, pressing his face into the juncture of Matt's neck and shoulder as Matt holds him. "I love you too," Mello manages to say as he calms down. "God, Matt, I'm so sorry, I don't mean it, not to you."

"I know you don't," Matt says. "But it's going to stop."

Mello lifts his head. "What if it doesn't?" he asks.

Matt's eyes are sad, but they are also hard and determined. "I'll leave," he says.

Mello's heart seizes up. "You can't," is all he can say. Matt can't—he's the only one, he cannot do this alone, Matt can't just leave, he's promised-

Matt stops his panicked thoughts with a short, sweet kiss. "It's _okay_, Mello," he says. "I'm not going to leave the very next time you have an episode. I know it's going to take time. But you are going to learn to control yourself, and I am going to help and it's going to be _okay_."

Mello wants to believe him. Really, he does, but the uncertainty must show on his face because Matt sighs and holds him again.

"We don't have to be scared anymore," he says. "Nobody wants to hurt us, and we can just live, Mel. That is a gift after all we've been through, and we both deserve so much less than what we've been given. We're not just going to throw our lives away as soon as we get them. We finally have a chance to do whatever the hell we want to—L is avenged, and we don't have to be afraid of showing our faces. We've paid all our debts, so now we're done. Free."

"Free," Mello says, tasting the word. "I like that." The last sentence is offered up, a bit timidly.

Matt smiles a little. "Good," he says. "It's not going to change."

Mello holds onto his sleeve tightly as he calms down further. He wants to believe Matt and maybe, in time, he will.

"It's okay, Mello," Matt tells him again, and this time, for the first time, Mello finds himself listening and thinking that maybe it's the truth.

* * *

A/N: Remember that one time when I was done with finals and I finally had time to write and catch up on everything?

I do. Those were some good times . . .

At any rate, like I said, this is a bit depressing and somewhat AU, but I have this secret obsession with Matt and Mello; hell, I can barely write a story without them in it. Anyways, lemme know what you think and maybe I'll let the next chapter of Silence out of it's cage.


End file.
